Fearless
by Apalapucian
Summary: "For something so immensely life-changing, it only took Lily Evans a number of heartbeats to realize just how deeply and madly in love with James Potter she was." JPLE Oneshot.


For something so immensely life-changing, it only took Lily Evans a number of heartbeats to realize just how deeply and madly in love with James Potter she was.

There was nothing particularly special about the day on which it took place either. It was just one of those droll, slow days, and the Marauders had decided to screw homework and sneak out to grab some butterbeer instead—an invitation Lily, Mary, and Dorcas couldn't refuse. The lot were probably still in the pub; James and Lily had left them behind earlier to walk around and spend some time alone. They took shelter in the immediate establishment when it suddenly rained—an abandoned, empty, dusty shop at the end of a deserted street. But then James took her hand and pulled her out and insisted they dance in the heavy downpour. It was ridiculous and insane and childish…but it was sweet, so very sweet, and it made her heart flutter.

The third time he twirled her around, it just hit her.

There was the dizzying whirl of shapes and colors as she turned, his fingers firm around hers as he held her hand above her head, their laughter melding with the sound of the rain and the buzz of the unseen, oblivious people from the nearby street, the splash of water around her feet, her dress ruined and heavy and dripping…and then she knew. As her surroundings solidified and she faced him once more, her arms coming to rest on his shoulders and lacing them around his neck, she just _knew_.

It wasn't even a proper date, she thought, as she stood there and stared at him, his eyes the golden, chocolate brown she had hated and loved and drowned in for so many years, his hands warm and had moved down to settle on her waist, the rain trickling down from his unfailingly tousled locks, down to his jaw, gathering on his chin…and Merlin, it was simply impossible to not linger on those lips.

But she willed herself to look back up at his eyes, meeting his questioning gaze with her own; a warm, affectionate look that echoed the overwhelming, emotional storm gripping her, momentarily stealing all the words off her train of consciousness and unknowingly sealing her—and his—fate forever. Although some coherent, very minute part of her brain registered how, as mentioned, this wasn't even a proper date and the timing was all off, the ground beneath her would have given out and she wouldn't have minded, because there was only him, only James, only his lips and eyes and hands and the cold, cold, rain…and the ultimate realization that she was in love with him.

"Evans," he breathed as she traced his bottom lip with her thumb, and although she didn't hear it, she _saw_ her name on his lips, and that made her smile.

"Want to know something?"

He quirked one eyebrow at her and opened his mouth to reply, but he was forced to swallow his bewildered, amused "what?"—for the next second, Lily's lips were on his.

And then they were both gone from the world, as at that moment they both ventured and got lost in their own.

James made her feel safe and brave and _home_; Lily was certain no one else could make her feel as much. He didn't know it—hell, she was only beginning to know it herself—but he made her who she was. She had always harbored qualms on who she should and should not be, what with the constant rejection of who she was on both worlds she was part of. She wanted to be different, she wanted to be someone she could claim her own, she wanted to be Lily Evans, Gryffindor, no one else.

And all this time…

When she had shunned him off the first time they'd met…she had been upset with Petunia then. Severus was there, and he was thoughtful and kind and had been distraction enough, but it had been James who snapped her out of it. It had been James who made her mad enough to walk away, it had been him who incited the anger that had eventually overrun her sadness.

And then, for what felt like a million times more after that…

Second year, when she'd thought she had had enough of him pestering her around, she had punched him for being such a loud, cocky berk.

Third year, he came across her and some Slytherins openly taunting her for being Muggleborn—and because she did not want to look like a damsel in distress in front of him—James Potter, of all sodding people—she had surprised him by hexing all three of the bloody rude snakes on her own.

Fourth year, when Amos Diggory unexpectedly ditched her for some Ravenclaw blonde bimbo a year down, everyone acted like she had someone from her family die…well, she certainly felt like it, but the constant pity party made her feel even more wretched about the whole thing, and it hadn't been what she'd needed. In all the hiatus, James—although remaining a lurking, unshakable presence—was the only one who stayed the way he always had been with Lily: annoying and stubborn and insistent. Save for that one time when he wordlessly, solemnly offered her his cup of firewhiskey in one of those vague, Quidditch victory parties, he was mysteriously indifferent to the issue—something that baffled her and drove her mad and on the brink of hexing him into oblivion…which, she only acknowledged now, had been the best upheaval to the paralyzing pain brought about by her first heartbreak.

Fifth year, she lost Severus and Petunia and all the other little things that came with those two significant people, and she had hated James with all her heart—even blamed him for all of it at some point. But there was no denying that his never-ending, persistent pursuance of her despite her adamant, countless no's were already gradually getting to her, seeping in and taking over the just-emptied corners of her heart. He had filled her up—with anger, with puzzlement, with wonder, with _hope_—and he had caught her and picked her back up again. None of them even noticed. None of them even knew. Maybe _he_ did.

And sixth year, after fighting alongside each other in an unexpected Hogsmeade Death Eater attack and experiencing how it was like to have to depend her life on him, they surprised the general Hogwarts population with their decision to be friends. She remembered being surprised at his decency, at how wrong she was on so many accounts about him. She remembered little conversations made and jokes laughed at and notes passed, she remembered the sensation of having her heart wrenched out of her when he had told her he was over her, she remembered feeling extremely jealous when she had accidentally seen him snogging Jeanne Salvatore in the library, she remembered admitting to Mary how she thought she might like James Potter…she remembered _everything_.

And now they were here, cold and soaking wet and clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. There was a long, twisted history of broken friendships and stolen kisses trailing behind them, and a war looming ahead…

She broke away first, catching her breath, and she felt James' forehead thud gently against her own.

James Potter made Lily Evans who she was.

He made her fearless, he made her different, he made her wonderful and brilliant and one of a kind, all because he didn't give up on her when she almost did, because he had always been there in one way or another, because he loved her in a way that was crazy and selfless and _real_. She gave her the courage to feel okay about who she was, to fight for herself and for her place in the world—even if sometimes, in all those years, _he _himself had appeared to be on the other end of her little battles…

"I don't know what's going on," said James, chuckling through his words, "but I like it."

Lily rolled her eyes and let out a small laugh of her own.

"Potter," she began at last, drawing away slightly, just enough so she could see his face. "I think I'm in love with you."

It was difficult to discern the expressions that crossed his features then—surprise, confusion, disbelief, delight, skepticism…? He stared at her. He cleared his throat. And when he spoke, while his trademark lopsided grin was in place, she heard the unmistakable caution lacing his voice and plaguing his eyes. "Is that a problem?"

"No, you doofus," she assured him, laughing and shaking her head. It was frustrating how he couldn't see it, but she couldn't blame him, because he couldn't possibly know that all this time…he was everything she liked about herself. "Not at all."

And then his face broke out into that familiar boyish grin, that look of utter delight and self-contentment of his that Lily absolutely loved.

"Well, in that case…" he replied, wrapping her arms around her and pulling her even closer. Lily closed her eyes and smiled, loving how she was crushed against his chest, loving the feel of him there and knowing he was hers for as long as he would let her, loving how he smelled of rain and butterbeer and pine and summer and distinctly _James_…

"…I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you, too."


End file.
